Never Take Life Seriously
by koyoote
Summary: A series of drabbles, each involving the death of a character. Each will have their own "suitable" death. Requests and suggestions are welcome. However no character will escape. Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes it Out Alive Anyway.
1. If Life was a Stage

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes it Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character... Would you slow down? Or speed up?"**_** – Chuck Palahniuk**

There were many times that he could've died. Many times when he should've. But somehow, the Avatar couldn't think of a time for death more suitable than the one at that very moment.

He thought he should've died in that storm over a hundred years ago, lost to the crashing waves.

He thought he should've died on Zuko's ship countless times. Before the Avatar State saved him.

He thought he should've died at the truly final battle, finally facing Ozai with his small force.

He thought he should've died when Katara wanted to stay in the Fire Nation. To rebuild she had said, but he knew she wanted to keep the new Fire Lord out of trouble. Or cause it, he wasn't sure.

He thought he should've died when he realized that Katara no longer wanted to return from the Fire Nation. Every excuse was weaker and the land of her mother's killers held new meaning for her. A lover.

Even then he did not die of a broken heart. He could not, for the last chakra had taken away his "earthly attachment" and took away his chance to die with his heart.

For many years he did not die; for many years he spent his time rebuilding and keeping peace with the world. They needed him and he would not abandon them again.

He thought his death would come before his friends, if only because he couldn't imagine life without them. But one by one they fell: to injury, to epidemic and sickness, to money. Until there were none left but him.

For the longest time he had wondered if being the Avatar was worth his pain. Then, as he grew old and a gray beard covered the old smile lines around his mouth, he thought of something he hadn't before. The new Avatar. He would be the new Avatar's mentor, and then he could rest, knowing that his work would continue. It was then he knew that the world needed to be rebuild so that the new Avatar would not grow up in a land of hatred. It would be born in the Water Tribe, and his heart panged in his old chest.

The Avatar contemplated, not for the first time, suicide. He was old, and that or sickness, or ambush by rebels would take him soon. In the Fire Nation suicide was honorable, in the Air Temples it was looked down upon. He wouldn't be the first to do suicide, as an Avatar. Many had lived for a hundred years, and couldn't stand staying alive too long while everyone they knew passed on. Kyoshi was one of the few who lasted for many hundred years.

He thought he should've died by his own hand. He did not.

The Avatar could not leave his spirit guide, and his spirit guide could not leave without him. He did not die then, for he could not leave so many things undone.

But after a few months, of things become balanced and whole in the world, he saw the coming of his death in Appa's graying face. His destiny was done.

The last airbending Avatar left no children, but those of the world and those of his friend's children. He left no stone unturned and swept away the defiant war-mongering rebels from the face of the earth, ocean, and sky. He did not find any other airbenders, and did not take false hope that an airbender may take another Avatar form one day. He was the last, and like some things that all lasts have in common, he, Appa, and Momo faded away into story and legend.

He thought he should've died when his human body took its last breath. But still he lived on through the newest Avatar, a girl named Karin to non-bending parents that traveled from the Northern Water Tribe to their sister South to rebuild.

The Avatar was quick to discover that no one ever truly died, and that even though the Spirit World was distant, he did not tire to return to the soil to see his newest student and the children of his friend's children. Souls, he found, had destinies that change with the times, but they are always familiar faces. Familiar faces were what he found in the Spirit World, and they made him proud to say that he had used all of his energy and life before passing on. He was proud to face his dearest friends, young and old, a wrinkled old man with many accomplishments on his shoulders.

Avatar Aang felt himself finally at peace and knew that he would not have the peace had he not taken the longest road to get to his final destination.


	2. Understanding Death

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes it Out Alive Anyway

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes it Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**We understand death for the first time when he puts his hand upon one whom we love."**_** – Madame de Stael**

The death of a person close to others is always a painful and ugly process. The death of someone all alone is only marginally more dignified. The death of someone so beloved you long to die with them is a torment and faint longing for sadistic suicide.

She believes that she is one of the earliest children to understand Death and his strange ways. Her mother had been a quick and fatal victim that had died almost too early to comprehend. The pain, while fresh, was unnerving for a child.

Children should not know of Death.

She understands Death a little more when he captures someone slightly nearer to her heart than strangers. Still, the acquaintance was no valiant knight or righteous warrior whom died for his cause. This death is to make her understand that Death is not bias. He takes from every corner, lighted or shadowed, in the world.

Young adults are allowed to comprehend Death through the death of strangers.

When Death entrapped her father in a particularly heinous way, she was no longer the forgiving hen mother of children, but the vengeance of a million orphans left behind by war, Death, and their sadistic ways.

Death makes youthful adults weary ones.

It was after the battles and wars were complete that Death came for her.

She'd seen it coming all along. The illness of war and vengeance had come upon her soul. It slowly sickened her from her heart outwards. It weakened her body for the sickness of others to ravage it. Silly little girl had always been too involved in helping others.

Death does not care for compassion and makes no effort to help those who are in need of it.

As it would happen, her closest friends were there to watch every step of the journey. Even allies, once enemies, were concerned for the girl-woman as she walked to the infirmary camps to heal the ill.

They did not understand what she did. She was not merely sick of body, but of mind. Her heart was tainted by countless battles and bloodied victims left behind by both herself and the enemy.

She made herself sick with watching the outside world, and her compassion for others despite some deep set ill-will for a particular few.

In actuality, the sickness would carry her on with her life for several more years. Several more years to watch others nearby die. Death was showing her that you could not save everyone. Not even herself.

Waterbending Master Katara of the Southern Water Tribe perished young in life from the illness of war brought on since birth and the inevitability that is life against such a ravaging concept that is Death.


	3. Indifference

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**The opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."**_** – Elie Wiesel**

The end of the war had been a turning point in his life. One that could never be reversed, because in that war so many had died that he had loved. At the end of it all, he and Death had come to a strange understanding.

His mother had been killed by the war early in his life. His first love was killed by the unfairness that is a borrowed life. His sister had been killed by the strife and hatred that is incited in the war. His father was killed by the liquid that eased the pain of a lost wife and daughter.

He himself? He was killed by everyone that left him.

The final straw that had broken him was the death of his wife who died giving birth to his stillborn son.

Their deaths had done him in.

Though his body continued to move, and he continued to live, everyone around him knew he must not be alive. The shaken feeling of being near an empty shell crept across every person's spines.

Old friends could not stand him any longer. They were hurting too, but could no longer stand to see slowly dying body holding a long gone soul.

Yes, he and Death had come to an understanding. He knew that he needed to continue on, to take care of his unfinished business. And so he continued on moving through the motions, creating treaties and trade propositions; doing things that his father should have done, and would have done, had he not met his end. His people would listen, as long as he wanted to speak; they would listen until they were sure that all the voice was left from his body.

When finally his face went blank with no more emotions to hold, after he had given every last drop of his life blood into his people, and they knew he was done, he retreated. The dreary warrior left the uncomfortable place that was once his home and traveled inland. He took on the coldest of places and built a structure that was his grave.

It was easy because the body still felt strong and the mindlessness of it all did not require him to incite false facial expressions. When his grave was suitable, he took to it and waited for Death to come for him.

This was their understanding. Death had already taken his reason for living in the world and would give his body the chance to finish his life. But the middle aged warrior waited long in the cold grave for Death.

As it seemed, Death would not come. Death had made the final betrayal, and withheld him from his loved ones in the Spirit World. What he did not understand was that Death could not kill something that was already so dead. The warrior would have to revive himself in order to be killed.

But he could not. For all of his stubborn ways and intelligent brain, he could no longer fathom Death's intentions without his truly living soul.

Master Sokka, the Great Wolf of the Southern Water Tribe was stuck between life and the afterlife, and could not escape it because he could not understand that the absence of life was not death.

It was indifference.


	4. It's a Slow Death without Attention

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**If people thought you were dying, they'd give you their full attention."**_** – Chuck Palahniuk**

There was little to do after their mission was completed. For a long while, she decided she could not return home and stayed with her companions. But it was not long until her companions were taken away by their lives. Forgive her, but she felt forsaken, forgotten.

It was not their fault that they had their lives to carry on with, and she was only a small part of each of them. Still, she resented the fact that they left her to take care of her own business.

When, finally, she had returned home, her family could not recognize her. Of course they loved her with all their hearts, but it would not be enough. They could not understand her or be truly close to her. At least from then on they gave her the space between them she had always wanted.

Even as their deaths came to pass and she, unmarried, continued on the family trade, she had never closed the gap between them. She was rich enough, and unhindered by her parents, so she traveled the world once again. She joined her friends in their homes, watching as their lives came together or fell apart, and letting herself be amazed when she realized that they were stronger than she had ever given them credit for.

They thanked her when things fell apart, because they believed it was her strength that they had taken example by and recovered. They did not know that it was their own strength. Whether or not she roused it was really none of her concern if it was already there in the first place.

Uselessness crept across her mind. But she knew she was the greatest of them all. She had her pride, and the skills to back up her loud mouth. So, she accepted duels and challenges of all kinds to fight her for the reigning title that she kept so carefully locked up in her heart.

Eventually, the challengers stopped coming, and the title was undisputed. Boredom hung about her face wherever she looked. So she started another project.

She took on students, surprising all of her friends and companions in this act of generosity. They did not know it was the students she was relying on to stick around for her torturing and it was them that she held onto to keep from driving herself insane.

Even as the students started rolling in, she was visited by an estranged companion: a king. He reintroduced her to a world she had forgotten since childhood and the adventures of four other companions. Gambling.

While her students were at play, she gambled away. She swindled and stole con-artists out of their money, and when she tired of their games she took to betting on chance. It would turn out that she was as lucky as she was blind.

Her family name grew in wealth until it was quite possible she could buy the king's title out from under him. But she would not think of this option; royalty did not have the amount of independence she needed. Perhaps this was the only reason she was not crowned a title among the other masters and noblemen.

There was little to think about when the orphanages sprung up as to where the money should go. Middle aged and becoming quite the shrew, she unloaded a lot of the wealth upon these poor places. Her companions thanked her profusely for her generosity, and she didn't bother to correct them of her true motives. Her vault and treasury were simply running out of space, and where better to put the excess cash but into public service programs?

And so, she gained the reputation of a hard ass with a heart of gold and did nothing to sway them to the truth. It was not for her own sake as much as for theirs. She knew of her own faults and did not wish to worry her friends with them. Perhaps they should've looked closer anyway.

There is always the trouble that comes with the combination of gambling, money, fame, and a recovering war torn world. She was a great target for war hawks. She was also really good at handing them back their asses after said attempt on her life.

She knew however, that you can't win them all.

And she didn't.

Lady Toph Bei Fong, the Blind Bandit, the Greatest Earthbender in the World, was killed by an assassin whom had watched her be defeated by a gangly looking challenger at Earth Rumble Six.


	5. It's What We Do

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**A person doesn't die when he should but when he can."**_** – Gabriel Garcia Marquez**

He knew how he ought to die. He had always known in a way. Since his mother had disappeared and his grandfather passed away mysteriously, to her evil grin. At first he had looked on with worry at this sudden dread in his stomach, then he'd realized the purpose of it all.

He must die by her hand. It was the only way that it should happen. And if it happened by any other way, the world, his world, would not be right.

_"Hey. Swear on your life, that no one will cry at my funeral."_

_"Hah. Who would cry when-"_

_"Swear it!"_

_"Al-alright. I swear."_

_"Say it Azula!"_

_"I… I swear on my life… That no one will cry at your funeral."_ He had smiled then. She had looked on in confusion. She did not know what she was promising, and that was okay. She didn't have to know that his blood would be on her hands.

For a long time before his death would come, he felt that perhaps he was making the wrong choice. But when he found his way back home he knew it would be alright. The scroll he had found made it all alright; made everything make sense in his head. She was still there somewhere. She was Roku and Sozen. He was Roku and Sozen.

She didn't know that only one of them could live. He had long ago discovered that he was truly Sozen. He had Sozen's early teenage mercy, his later ambition, determination, and state of mind. She had the unearthly grace and greatness of mind and skill that was Roku. She depended on her friends with a fierceness that only belied the hurt in her mind when they betrayed her. And she looked so much like mother…

The final battle had come. They would have to be on opposing sides, but none of their allies would know of their difference of coats. He did not go for his father, he went for his sister.

He did not have her skill, and as she manipulated him into rage, he knew that this was Roku's revenge against Sozen. Roku had had his life taken swiftly and without mercy. She was entitled to a little torture.

He did not know how it was going to happen. Their battle was intense with his new skills and counter measures, and her unadulterated, supernatural fury. Then it was over. He had pulled out his blades and she knew that she would have to finish the fight quickly or risk great injury. She had feinted around his attack and got close.

Golden eyes widened at the pain. The dagger plunged deep into his flesh, between his ribs and stabbing his heart. He wheezed in surprise and dropped to his knees. Her eyes enlarged in shock at his imminent death. Her mind was racing with reasons, reasons that he should still be alive.

Tears came unbidden, unwanted, as she dropped to her knees with him. Her hands cradled his face that watched her with a peaceful expression. His swords lay forgotten at his sides and his hands lifted to feel the wound at his chest. She watched on in horror as he slowly smiled and rested a bloodied hand against her cheek.

He wiped away the tears with his thumb as sobs slowly choked her throat.

_"No crying."_ He reminded her. More tears squeezed out of her eyes as she flinched at his words. Her jaw trembled as she nodded, despite the water still leaking from her eyes.

Slowly, his life escaped him, his destiny complete. He had chosen this death, and she embraced his slowly chilling form. His inner fire was gone, and she cried harder against the still body that was her brother.

Fire Prince Zuko, the Blue Spirit, son of Fire Lord Ozai and Fire Lady Ursa, descendant of Fire Lord Sozen and Avatar Roku, died to save his sister's soul.


	6. What an Ordeal

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter."**_** – Winston Churchill**

She was a human who had never truly contemplated Death. Her own death was something of an imaginary thing, too far into the future to think about. There was too much to be done. A country had to be run, the world needed to be good enough for her eventual rule, she had an uncle, brother, and father to kill before all of this could be hers.

There simply was too much to be done to think of death.

Her friends awaited her next orders. She had returned home with her brother and uncle in tow. Time was on her side. Her uncle was in prison and would be executed for his treason. Her brother would be killed for not destroying the Avatar as she had reported to their father, and discovered through Zuko's terrible skill of lying. Then, with the coming of the comet, she could take her father. She knew she could, it was all a matter of confidence, and she had plenty of it.

The darkened hallways suited her as she traveled to her companion's rooms. It wouldn't be good if the servants could spread rumors about her plot. Not that they could spread word without their tongues anyway.

Her robes made soft noises against the floor, their extravagance perhaps covering his footsteps. There was no warning when she suddenly walked into the steel of two swords.

One sharp edge hugged her belly, threatening to disembowel her. The other held her neck, promising a quick death. The hands that held these pieces of steel, things that she was never adept with, were attached to a warm body behind her. The swords, as if extensions of his arms, held her in a pseudo embrace.

Silence persisted as she wondered what her assailant was waiting for. She chanced speaking.

_"May I know my assassin?"_ she asked calmly. It was strange how her body did not send her adrenaline and fire in instinctual battle against death. No, she was calm as water, and still as earth.

An unspoken gasp persisted in her as his sword at her throat pressed closer, nicking her skin and letting little beaded drops of blood stain her robes. It was a distraction, it turned out. When he let his grip loosen comfortably again, the other sword had returned to her belly and a hard object smacked the floor in front of them.

She recognized the mask. The laughing face mask belonged to the Blue Spirit. Rarely had she reflected on the idea of this trouble maker actually killing someone, let alone herself.

The Blue Spirit moved closer, and what she saw in her peripheral vision did not surprise her. She had her suspicions, as had General Zhao. Her assassin pressed the scared skin of his left eye against her right cheek, a motion of affection seldom acted out between them. She relaxed further into her Death's hands.

_"Do you think the Spirit World is ready for you?"_ he asked quietly. She closed her eyes, hoping that she could remember this moment unto death. A smirk stretched across her mouth, its purpose to laugh in the face of Death.

_"One can only hope."_

The sword at her throat struck deep and pulled against the grain of her resisting jugular. Her eyes closed, vaguely satisfied with the fact that it was her own blood that had slain her. He held her limp body close, savoring what had been his sister. He held onto the hope that she could've been different. She could've been the loving little sister that had looked up to him. Until his father tainted her.

Slowly, he picked up her blood soaked body and carried her respectfully to her room, retracing her last steps. When her cold body was settled comfortably, naturally against the covers, he moved on.

His father would not feel the mercy he had given his sister of a quick death.

Fire Princess Azula, daughter of Fire Lord Ozai, granddaughter of Fire Lord Azulon, descendant of Fire Lord Sozen, and heir to the throne, was killed by her own kin for all of the evils she had committed in the world and would've continued to perform.


	7. True Love

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

Never Take Life Seriously: No One Makes It Out Alive Anyway

_Scarlet Rose_

"_**The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person."**_** – Chuck Palahniuk**

Even after so many years it was not hard to imagine her love's face. But the reality that she saw, in his eyes, in his scarred face, was not what she had imagined. Her grim expression worsened at his entrance. She was to distract them until Azula finished with her uncle. Her love came at her with another woman at his side. It was painful, and she knew that he could read the hurt in her silver eyes.

Why had he turned traitor? How could he destroy the country that he had loved with all his heart as a young boy?

Did he hate his father that much?

The woman at his side, his right hand, was the Waterbender she had fought first in New Ozai. Words could not describe how she hated that woman now. She focused her fury on her as soon as Azula arrived.

Zuko became distracted by his sister, as she took to her fight viscously against the Waterbender. Shuriken, senbon, stilettos, and all forms of daggers were at her disposal as she threw her all into harming the brown haired flirt.

The tramp was good, unfortunately, and could block every attack while sending her own. It was angering, the thought that this girl wasn't going as all out at she was herself. She was a match for a bender, and she could prove it.

Pulling off several acrobatics worthy of her pink aura-ed friend, she was able to get within the girl's guard unexpectedly. Poisoned senbon were in her hand, ready to stab into the little whore's heart when she heard the crackle of lightning.

What made her pause, was not the mere sound of it, but the fact that it was so close.

It hit her in the back, illuminating her stricken face with energy and forcing her to drop the needles. A killing blow.

She fell, barely conscious for the last moments of her life. She saw very few images of the final battle afterwards. Above her, the Waterbender stared in shock at her enemy's very still form and half-lidded eyes. Zuko appeared briefly before her, abandoning his battle with Azula to pull the girl to safety. Their eyes met for only a second before he dismissed her and ran on with the girl. It hurt…

The knowledge that he did not love her, did not love her or even consider her as she did him, hurt so bad. Despite the numbing of her body, she felt her heart pang and her facial mask crack. Final tears fell from her eyes, almost blurring her vision of the last thing she would see in her life.

Azula knelt near her. She hadn't run after Zuko. In that moment, realization struck her. Her old love had sent the lightning at her. It hurt all the more. But that soft look in her friend's eyes, it eased her pain a little.

As the last of her breath left her body, Azula cradled her favored companion's head in her lap, comforting her. The Fire Princess closed her eyes gently when she stopped breathing, and made her a silent vow.

_"He will pay."_

Lady Mai of the Fire Nation, first daughter of the Governor of New Ozai, was killed by her lover's hand, and died peacefully in her true love's arms.


End file.
